I did not come to Kenyon because of the rave reviews from alumni, the insistence of my college guidance counselor or the bombardment of Ascension-emblazoned postcards. I finally made my college decision when I heard a story from my student host combining Evangelicalism and nudity. As told to me as a prospie, a man on Middle Path protesting the teaching of evolution got a very visual reminder of the origins of the species when my host’s ex–boyfriend lost a bet and then had to streak across campus. By chance, he ran past the creationist and his sandwich boards — stark naked. When my host ensured that bizarre events this didn’t happen every day (but certainly could), I knew Kenyon was where I wanted to spend the next four years.

The magic of Kenyon doesn’t reside in its ghost-ridden dorms, but in the potential for weirdness that is this place hemming 1,676 bright minds in this land of cornfields. As Eley noted, the College should strive to keep this uniqueness in its 2020 plan. With that in mind, I think the only way to maintain Kenyon’s character in the future is to have students involved with the trustee meetings. So, get to know us, trustees. Most of the time we are not defecating on or breaking our campus, but chatting excitedly about the fascinating things we learn, or reveling in the majesty of the campus’ latest absurd guest, a 2,000 lb pumpkin named Gourdzilla.